


Fires Unknown (Carry Me Home)

by Synekdokee



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Bodyguard AU, Caretaking, M/M, Non graphic violence, Non-Penetrative Sex, chuck being bamf, implied age disparity, raleigh being bamf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:35:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2691470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synekdokee/pseuds/Synekdokee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You've been my bodyguard for three years and not once has anyone so much as flipped me the bird. Dad's just a paranoid old fart," Chuck says with a roll of his eyes. </p><p>Raleigh checks his weapon before sliding it back in his holster. "That he may be, but not only does he pay my salary, he could also kill me with his thumb, so I'm just gonna do my job if that's alright with you."</p><p>Of course that's the night everything goes to hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fires Unknown (Carry Me Home)

**Author's Note:**

> Because I'm a sucker for bodyguard AUs. Props to Tara (illburnthatbridge) for indulging me while I went off on a tangent about this AU, and to Renee (arkemisia) for beta.
> 
> Title from Carry Me Home by the Hellacopters.

"Oi you fucking useless cunts!"

Raleigh turns away from the window to raise an eyebrow at Chuck, who merely shrugs at him before turning his attention back to the tv.

"They keep missing easy goals," he grumbles.

Raleigh huffs out a laugh and glances at his watch.

"Well, you enjoy your shouting, I'm going to do my rounds."

Chuck rolls his eyes at him. "You've been my bodyguard for three years and not once has anyone so much as flipped me the bird. Dad's just a paranoid old fart."

Raleigh checks his weapon before sliding it back in his holster. "That he may be, but not only does he pay my salary, he could also kill me with his thumb, so I'm just gonna do my job if that's alright with you."

"As you wish," Chuck says sarcastically, but he's grinning. Raleigh smacks him lightly on the head as he passes him, muttering "brat" under his breath.

He descends the stairs and heads through the hall to the front door. He deactivates the alarm system and opens the door, glancing through the gate towards the street. Nothing suspicious, but he didn't really expect anything. He locks the door and reactivates the alarm, even though he knows he'll be doing a sweep of the grounds in half an hour.

The living room is empty as it should be, and so is the library. There's a pizza box with leftovers on the couch, and with a put-upon sigh Raleigh picks it up. He shouldn't be cleaning up after Chuck, but the thought of just leaving it there (especially for the maid to find on monday if Chuck keeps forgetting about it) makes him uncomfortable.

The moment he steps into the darkened kitchen something he can't quite pin down makes him feel cautious. He simply chalks it up to paranoia, but he'd be a shit bodyguard if he ignored his gut. Setting the pizza box down on the counter, Raleigh draws his weapon, flicking the safety off.

Nothing's misplaced, that he can see, but the hair on the back of his neck suddenly stands on end.

The kitchen is large and open, light from the street lamps gleaming off the steel appliances and polished stone countertops. Nothing's moving, and the only audible sound is the steady hum of the fridge.

He moves around the island quietly towards the door leading to the service area, when there's a sound behind him. It's not much more than a gust of wind but Raleigh swings around on pure instinct, weapon drawing up, finger already on the trigger. 

A figure stands in the dark just in front of the now open pantry door, and Raleigh barely has time to see the gun in his hand and react before there’s a muted bang and a bullet slams into the wall directly behind him. 

_He's using a silencer_ , Raleigh's brain registers inanely as he aims for the dark shape. He manages to squeeze the trigger just as the intruder charges forwards, his gun going off with a loud crack. Brute force rams him against adjacent wall, the trespasser's fist swiftly jamming itself into his side causing Raleigh to hunch over in pain. 

The attacker hits Raleigh’s hand, making him lose his grip, causing his own pistol to fall and skitter across the floor. He struggles to keep the barrel of the intruder's gun from pointing directly at him all while trying to land a blow himself.

 

He manages to push himself off the wall and grab the gunman, using his momentum to turn them around and backpedal the man towards kitchen counter. There's a satisfying crack as Raleigh slams him against the countertop and grapples for the gun.

Something moves just outside peripheral vision and Raleigh turns his head, body going cold when he sees someone running through the hall towards the staircase.

Frantic, he grabs for the assailant's arm, bringing it up while curling his hand to slip his own finger over the trigger. The aim is fucked but he fires, and by some miracle the second intruder goes down by the bottom of the staircase. It’s certainly not a kill shot, he’s still moving, but it buys Raleigh time.

"Chuck!" he roars, even though he knows the kid would've heard the sound of the gun going off. He hopes Chuck has the sense to hide like Raleigh's instructed him, instead of doing something stubborn and stupid.

He slams his elbow back as hard as he can and twists around. Without taking a moment to consider he forces the other man's arm up into an unnatural position by his grip on the hand still holding the gun. The man's wrists cracks as Raleigh twists the gun.

The cry of agony is cut off by the suppressed sound of a shot being fired.

The body falls slack onto the tiled floor, Raleigh already sprinting towards the man staggering upright by the stairs, picking up his pistol as he runs. The intruder turns towards Raleigh, gun arm jerking up, and Raleigh stops, aims, and fires, hitting him squarely in the chest. The man drops like a rag doll.

Raleigh's about to head upstairs to check on his charge when the front door slams open, the alarm going off with an ear-splitting stuttered whine. Raleigh spins around and he barely has time to register the man standing in the foyer before a shot rings out. A sharp pain pierces through his right arm, the spasm of agony making him drop his pistol. He ducks for it when another bullet hits the marble floor between him and the gun.

Realising he's smack dab in the middle of a wide open room with no cover, Raleigh surges to the left and then sprints towards the door. A bullet whistles past him, and then he's barreling into the shooter and tackling him to the floor. A hand squeezes his wounded biceps and he grinds his teeth against the scream of pain, aiming a punch with his healthy arm. It glances off the man's forearm as he shields himself, and Raleigh grabs his wrist, trying to slam his hand into the floor to make him let go of the gun. 

They exchange blows, wrestling for the upper hand. Raleigh's arm puts him at a disadvantage, and he finds himself on his back, the gunman kneeling on his upper arms, knee pressing into his wound.

The attacker lifts his weapon with a smirk, maintaining a steady grip as his finger slips past the trigger guard. A cold feeling trickles down Raleigh's spine, and the realisation that he's about to die flashes through his mind.

He flinches when a gunshot echoes through the hall.

The man above him slumps back, body crumpling to the side, clearing Raleigh’s view to the staircase.

And Chuck, standing there, weapon lowered with both hands. His mouth is open, eyes wide and he's breathing rapidly, but his stance is exactly how Raleigh taught him.

Raleigh stares for a beat, brain scrabbling to make sense of everything. The sound of sirens in the distance, barely audible over the still screaming alarm jerks him out of his near-death haze. He pushes himself up, favouring his hurt arm, rolls the body off his legs and goes to disarm the alarm.

By the time Raleigh’s doen, Chuck's sitting down on the steps. He’s set the gun down next to him. Raleigh heads up the stairs and sits down next to Chuck, their thighs brushing. The sound of sirens is growing closer.

"You okay?" Raleigh asks softly. Chuck nods, swallows hard.

"He was gonna-" he says thickly, turning to look at Raleigh. His green eyes are wide, and suddenly he looks a lot younger than he is.

Raleigh gives him a soft look. "You did the right thing," he says gently, touching Chuck's hand. Chuck gives a jerky nod. He turns his palm up and curls his fingers around Raleigh's.

"You should've stayed hidden," Raleigh says, remnants of fear eating at his insides. "I've taught you to stay hidden." He can hear the desperation in his own voice.

Chuck clenches his jaw. "You also taught me to shoot," he says, voice tight. "If I hadn't come down he would've killed you, and then come after me."

Raleigh looks at Chuck, his strong profile, the tense line of his shoulders. He nods quietly, thumb brushing across the skin of Chuck's wrist.

"That was a good shot," he says.

Chuck's still looking straight at the body - or maybe he's looking through the doors, out into the yard. There's a reflection of blue and red lights flickering in the distance.

"Yeah," Chuck murmurs, and then the corner if his mouth twitches a little. "It really was."

It's not really funny - nothing about this is, but Raleigh huffs out a soft laugh anyway. His arm aches, but the pain has dulled down from a sharp spear of pain into a throbbing pressure. He frees his hand from Chuck's and peels off his jacket, pulling the shoulder down until he sees the red spot. He tries to pull his jacket back up but Chuck's on him, tugging it lower. Chuck lets out a hiss as he sees the torn fabric and the blood.

"They fucking shot you," he says angrily, and Raleigh tries to ignore the warmth in his belly at that. At Chuck being so worried. He shrugs the kid off and pulls the jacket back on, frowning.

"It's nothing. Just a graze," he says dismissively. Chuck gives him one of those patented Hansen "you're a fucking idiot" looks.

"If you say it's just a flesh wound, I swear to god Becket."

Raleigh laughs and ruffles Chuck's hair, just because he knows the kid hates that. Anything to lighten the shitty situation.

"I'll be fine," he says evenly. "I promise. It's barely even bleeding anymore." That's a lie - the adrenaline is leaving and it's making him bleed more, and he keeps his hand tucked to his side, hidden from Chuck's view. He can feel the blood dripping down his fingers. He knows it won't kill him, and he can't bear the thought of freaking Chuck out any more than he already is.

 

When the cops arrive, Raleigh does his best to keep Chuck out of it. The forensic team is called and he leaves the kid in the library where he doesn’t have to look at the people working around the bodies.

Raleigh has to talk to the officers and explain why there are three bodies in the house. He’s taking them through the events in detail, and realises that everything happened in a matter of minutes. It felt like a lifetime.

Later he’s talking to the police Captain who’s so nobly shown up to make sure Colonel Hansen’s household is safe. Chuck walks up to him, holding his phone.

“It’s dad. I told him what happened but he wants to talk to you.” He looks tired, and Raleigh feels a fierce need to touch him, to comfort him and shield him from all of this.

He steels himself instead and takes the phone with a nod, moving to the side to talk.

“Colonel?”

“What the hell is happening in my house, Becket,” Herc growls, and Raleigh feels his back go stiff, a deep-seated reaction to Hansen’s tone. Military habits die hard, he thinks.

“Three intruders broke into the house and tried to get to Chuck, sir. One ambushed me in the kitchen, I shot the other in the entrance hall. The third one triggered the alarm coming in through the doors.”

“Chuck said you got shot.” Raleigh thinks he hears a sign of worry in his tone.

“Just a graze, sir. I’ll take care of it.”

“Good,” Herc says, and then pauses. “Chuck… is he alright? He sounded a little shaken.”

Raleigh rubs his face and sighs. “Yeah, he’s unhurt. I… I gotta come clean, sir. I gave Chuck gun training and a pistol to use in emergencies. He shot the third gunman while he was trying to kill me.”

There’s a heavy silence on the line. When Herc speaks, the coldness of his voice makes Raleigh grateful he’s a plane flight away. “You gave my son a weapon and put him in a situation where he had to use it to kill.” It’s not a question.

Raleigh’s temper prickles. “With all due respect sir, I gave him the gun for self defence. I’ve told him to hide in the face of a threat, but he disobeyed me. And frankly, if he hadn’t, both of us would probably be dead right now.”

Herc is quiet for a while. Raleigh bites his teeth together to stop himself saying anything that could make the situation worse. He glances at Chuck who’s standing next to an officer, watching Raleigh curiously.

Finally Herc speaks. “We’ll discuss this when I get home. I’m taking the first flight out. Get Chuck out of the house until you know how they got in.”

“Yes sir,” Raleigh says, but Herc’s already disconnected. Raleigh sighs, feeling weary. He knows Herc’s protective of his son, but there’s nothing else he could’ve done. It was a shitty situation, not something you can ever fully prepare for. He’ll stand by his decision to give Chuck a gun for emergencies.

Chuck walks up to him and gives him a stiff smile. “Went well, I take it.”

Raleigh huffs out a laugh. “He’s not pleased I let you have a weapon.”

Chuck rolls his eyes. “It’s lucky I remembered I had it. I saved your fucking life. I should be the one guarding you.”

Raleigh laughs and hands Chuck the phone. “Sure, whatever you say, kid.”

They go back into the library, Chuck settling on the sofa. He looks so fucking young it makes Raleigh ache. He grabs a wool blanket that probably cost more than his month’s salary, and goes to tuck it around Chuck. Chuck flushes and grumbles, but let’s him do it, feet curling against Raleigh’s thighs as he sits down next to him.

Raleigh touches his knee. “Hey,” he says, voice gentle. “You okay?”

Chuck just looks at him, questioning. Raleigh shifts, leaning a little closer.

“Look… You did the right thing. You did what you had to. But it’s never easy, taking someone’s life. No matter how bad they are.”

Chuck darts his eyes away, picking at the blanket. “I’m fine,” he says gruffly. “He was gonna kill you.” There’s a note of finality to his tone and Raleigh drops it. They’re gonna have to talk about this at some point, people trained for this can fall apart at having to use their firearms. Chuck’s tough, has always been, but Raleigh can’t let him cope with this on his own.

“Alright,” Raleigh says, thumb stroking Chuck’s knee absently. “Stay here, I’m gonna go check on things.”

 

The night stretches on. Raleigh waves the paramedics away - he’s never been comfortable with other people all over him, and he can deal with a bullet graze on his own. He’s stripped down to his tank top, his suit jacket and button-down unsalvageable, and wrapped a makeshift bandage around the wound to stop the bleeding.

By the time the bodies have been cleared and the police leave them with a patrol car by the gate and promises to contact them later, the cold, blue light of dawn is crawling in through the windows. Raleigh hasn’t slept in 24 hours, but despite the blood loss he feels wide awake.

He checks on Chuck, now curled asleep under the wool blanket. Raleigh leaves him alone and goes to pack travel bags for them both; a change of clothes, toiletries and IDs. The tv is still on in the upstairs lounge and he turns it off, wondering what went through Chuck’s head when the first shot rang out.

He goes to his own rooms for something to cover himself up with, having almost forgotten the ruined state of his suit. He pulls on a hoodie, wincing as he works his shot arm into the sleeve.

He goes through Chuck’s room to get his charger and the book he’s been reading, something to keep the kid busy when they're gone. Then he heads to the bathroom and grabs the first aid kit with some disinfectant and painkillers.

Turning off the lights, Raleigh heads back downstairs and to the library.

The sight of Chuck asleep on the couch makes him wish they could stay in the house, but he knows it wouldn’t be wise. He kneels down in front of Chuck and touches his shoulder lightly, giving him a slight shake. Chuck jolts awake, eyes wide open.

“It’s alright,” Raleigh says soothingly. “The house is empty. We should go to a hotel. I’ve packed our stuff,” he motions towards their bags.

Chuck sits up and rubs his face. “Right. Okay.” He considers. “I’m hungry.”

Raleigh laughs. “You’ll have to wait until room service.”

Chuck mutters something under his breath as Raleigh leads them to the garage, picking the silver BMW as the most inconspicuous car at their disposal. Chuck seems awake now, watching the scenery pass by as Raleigh drives. 

The sun is starting to rise and it looks like it’ll be a beautiful day, the road bathed in gold. Then past night’s events feel like a lifetime ago, and Raleigh wonders if the fatigue is catching up to him after all.

Raleigh checks them into a suite, not using their real names. He might be overly cautious, but right now he’ll carry that cross with pleasure. He tells them to send up some sandwiches and soda after Chuck gives him a pouting glare. He makes sure the room service knows to leave the tray outside by the door.

 

The room is nothing Raleigh hasn’t gotten used to travelling with Chuck. Larger than some of the apartments Raleigh’s lived in, filled with plush furniture and a nauseating amount of fresh flowers.

“Nice,” Chuck says approvingly, the fact that he’s used to this type of luxury evident in his tone. He slumps down on the sofa and watches Raleigh investigate the room. Raleigh checks the bedroom and draws the curtains closed, bathing the room in darkness. It'll be easier for Chuck to get some sleep without the sun glaring in his face.

“You look like you’re still on alert,” Chuck remarks. Raleigh realises it’s true - he’s not looking for shadowy intruders, but he’d been mapping the room in his head out of habit, noting possible weak spots and escape routes. He shakes his head and smiles ruefully.

“A tiger can’t change its stripes,” he says. There’s a knock on the door and Raleigh stiffens. He sees Chuck sit up too, body tensing.

“Room service,” someone calls through the door. Raleigh sighs.

“Just leave it, thank you,” he orders, and waits a few moments before opening the door, hand on his holster. The corridor is empty, and there’s a tray with a plate of sandwiches and fries, and cans of soda on the floor.

 

They eat in silence, Raleigh savouring the food, the sugar spike from the soda a blessing in liquid form. Chuck’s practically inhaling his food, moaning as he chews, the sound almost enough to make Raleigh flush despite himself.

“Glad you’re enjoying that,” he says, giving Chuck an amused look.

“Huh?” Chuck mumbles around his sandwich. Raleigh laughs and stands up, heading towards the bathroom.

“Nevermind. You keep eating, I gotta take care of my arm.”

 

Raleigh struggles out of his hoodie, realising there’s a bloodstain on the sleeve where his bandage has let blood through. He sits down on the toilet lid and peels off the bandage, grimacing as it sticks to the wound. He runs his arm under the water to rinse off the blood. The wound looks a bit worse now that it’s clean, the graze longer and deeper than Raleigh first thought.

He’s rummaging through the first aid kit when Chuck steps in and grabs the bag from him.

“You’re seriously gonna do this without a medical professional,” he snaps, clearly thinking Raleigh’s lost half a brain. Raleigh motions for the bag, irritated.

“It’s a bullet graze, Chuck. I think I can take care of a cut.”

Chuck kneels down in front of him, digging for cotton swabs. “At least let me help you then,” he says, face stubborn.

Raleigh sighs, and apparently that’s all the permission Chuck needs.

Raleigh watches him pour the disinfectant onto a swab, and then Chuck’s hand curls under his elbow, holding his arm still. Chuck swipes over the wound slowly, shooting a startled look up at Raleigh at the hiss of pain. Raleigh waves his hand, and Chuck goes back to cleaning the wound.

It doesn’t take long for Raleigh to grow accustomed to the sting of disinfectant, and slowly he begins to unwind. Chuck’s touches are careful, his palm warm against Raleigh’s arm. Raleigh realises Chuck’s close enough that Raleigh can smell the familiar scent of him, imagines he can almost feel the warmth radiating off of Chuck.

“I think you need stitches,” Chuck says, breaking the heavy silence between them as he pulls something out of the emergency bag. “But I guess that’s not likely to happen.”

Raleigh lets Chuck fuss over him, sitting still while he tapes a gauze pad over the wound.

Chuck leans in to wrap a strip of gauze around Raleigh’s biceps, and Raleigh takes a deep breath, inhaling Chuck’s scent. He feels light-headed, the lack of sleep and the strain on his body weighing his brains down. Chuck’s so close Raleigh could count his freckles.

He studies Chuck, cataloguing the things he’s always forbidden himself from noticing. The way his coppery eyelashes fan over his cheeks when he closes his eyes. The curve of his full bottom lip and the pointed slope of his nose. The column of his neck and the freckles peppering the skin across his cheeks.

The pads of Chuck’s fingers are warm on Raleigh’s skin, almost soothing and oddly grounding. Chuck finishes wrapping Raleigh up, taping the end of the gauze firmly.

He looks up and freezes, green eyes locked onto Raleigh’s. Raleigh swallows; he knows he’s slipped, knows what Chuck can read on his face, but he can’t look away, not even if it means he’s laying himself open here.

Chuck’s lips part, drawing Raleigh’s gaze. He can hear Chuck’s soft breathing, his own pulse pounding in his ears. Before he realises what he's doing he's leaning down, the tips of his fingers light on Chuck’s jaw when he kisses him softly, a dry brush of his lips against Chuck’s.

Raleigh hears Chuck's breath hitch as he kisses him soft and sweet, stepping over every line he ever drew between them.

Something seems to break then, and Chuck gives a little sob and surges against him, kissing him deeper, desperate. Raleigh wraps his healthy arm around him, pulling him close with his arm against the curve of Chuck’s lower back. He grunts when Chuck pushes him back and climbs in his lap, straddling him, arms winding around Raleigh’s neck.

Raleigh holds Chuck close and guides his legs around his waist before standing up, straining to carry him with only one arm. But the bedroom is close, and Raleigh walks into the dim room and lays Chuck down on the bed on his back, crawling over him on all fours. He leans down, braced on his good arm, combing the fingers of his free hand through Chuck’s hair as he kisses him again, tongue licking at the seam of his mouth.

He pulls away to look at Chuck - he looks so good like this, sprawled on his back, one arm hooked lazily over his head. His green eyes glint in the dimness of the bedroom and the look of trust on his face hits Raleigh like a punch to the gut.

He undresses Chuck slowly, kissing his jaw and neck as he undoes his shirt and throws it to the side of the bed. He mouths at Chuck’s chest, worshipping him with his lips, his hand trailing down to undo Chuck's jeans. They come down easy past Chuck’s slim hips, Chuck kicking them off before trailing his foot up Raleigh’s shin.

Raleigh takes Chuck’s cock in his hand, stroking slowly, licking the line of Chuck's neck. Chuck’s shaft is hot and heavy in his hand, his hips jerking into Raleigh’s touch as he arches off the bed with a strangled groan.

Raleigh lets go of Chuck long enough to undo his own belt one handed, ignoring the ache in his arm. He unzips his slacks and pushes them down to his knees, hushing Chuck gently as he whines at the loss of Raleigh's hand on his prick. 

Raleigh lowers himself down carefully, hips slotting against Chuck’s, and curls his hand around them both. Chuck’s cock slides against his, Raleigh’s knuckles brushing against the soft skin of Chuck’s belly with each stroke.

Chuck moans softly beneath Raleigh. His freckles are visible even in the darkness and Raleigh wants to taste each one, map them with his tongue. He wants to feel Chuck alive and close to him, wants to feel the warmth of his body and hear his heart beating strong.

Raleigh strokes them slowly, his own breath growing heavier. His arm aches but it doesn't matter, not now when he's finally given in. He’s crossing every professional and personal line imaginable. Breaking the promise he made to himself to never get involved, never get too close, not compromise everything.

 

Chuck looks up at Raleigh and the look of innocence almost undoes Raleigh. Chuck seems to read something on his face, his mouth curving into a sweet smile. Raleigh closes his eyes, head dropping down to rest his forehead on Chucks shoulder. His jagged breath splays out across freckled skin as he continues to work his hips against Chuck’s.

Chuck parts his thighs wider, canting his hips up as he sighs softly, indulging in Raleigh's touch. Raleigh thinks he hears his own name being whispered, spilling perfectly from Chuck’s lips.

Raleigh fastens his pace, moaning tightly as their cocks slide together. He knows this is dangerous, that getting involved with his charge is the stupidest thing a bodyguard can do, but right now it feels right. Slotted into the cradle of Chuck's hips, fingers tracing patterns over Chuck’s skin, nothing has felt so right before in his life.

He feels Chuck's leg hook behind his and suddenly he's flipped, Chuck rolling them over until he's on top of Raleigh, a proud smirk tugging at his lips. He pins Raleigh's wrists on either side of his hips. "Don't strain your arm," he smiles, his tone filthy as he presses his hips against Raleigh’s. His dick slides against the skin of Raleigh's belly as he lowers himself onto his forearms, kissing the corner of Raleigh’s mouth. Raleigh smiles, relaxing beneath Chuck's weight, happy to indulge him.

They find a rhythm, bodies rocking together lazily, their cocks trapped between them, sweat-slicked skin sliding against skin. All Raleigh hears is the rush of his own blood and Chuck's desperate pants peppered with soft, breathy moans, and it's the most beautiful thing Raleigh has ever heard.

 

Chuck whines, a wounded sound welling from his chest, hips stuttering as he shudders, body curling into Raleigh’s. "Ah- I'm... I'm so close, Raleigh..." he pants. Raleigh mutters soothingly to him, freeing one hand and burying it in Chuck's hair to pet him gently. "Come on," he croons into Chuck's ear. "You’re so good, it’s alright."

Chuck gives a broken moan, body tensing against Raleigh's as he comes, spilling over their stomachs. Raleigh kisses the crown of his head, keeps petting Chuck’s hair as he pants, hips jerking with aftershocks. When his breathing evens out he slumps a little, chest pressed against Raleigh’s. Raleigh hums softly, pleased, and reaches between them to grasp his own cock. It only takes a few strokes until he's coming, Chuck lifting his head to mouth at the pulse point on his neck.

Raleigh comes quietly, exhaling hard through his nose, muscles coiling tight. He breathes out a long sigh and wraps his healthy arm around Chuck to hold him close, palm resting on the dip of his spine.

They lie in the darkness, Raleigh keeping track of the rhythm of Chuck’s breathing. The flutter of eyelashes against his chest tells him Chuck's still awake. He's always been aware of Chuck, senses trained to track his movements, to the point where Raleigh feels they're entwined. In the silence he's suddenly realising how intimately he knows Chuck; the familiar measure of his breathing, the way he moves his body, the way he’s always quiet when he has too many things to say.

The only thing Raleigh's learning new is what the beat of Chuck's heart feels against his own.  
He’s spent three years obtaining recon on the kid, and yet Raleigh’s just learning how perfectly in sync they are.

Eventually Chuck shifts, lower body sliding off Raleigh. His head is pillowed on Raleigh's chest and Raleigh brings his hand up to card through his auburn hair. He feels Chuck’s lips twitch into a smile.

Chuck sighs and cranes his neck to look up at him. "I thought this was off limits," he says quietly. 

Raleigh hums, giving him a slight smile. "It was. Something changed."

Chuck lifts his head up, propping himself on one elbow. "What?"

Raleigh frowns, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind Chuck's ear. "Someone tried to kill you."

Chuck laughs. "Isn't that kind of the point of why you're even around?"

"Maybe. But it's never come this close before."

Chuck looks at him, face set in a slight frown - the one he wears when he disapproves of something. He glances down at Raleigh's arm where the bandage is stained with blood, and touches the skin above the wound gently with his fingertips.

"No. It hasn't."

Raleigh watches Chuck, studies the shape of his face in the deep shadows. Chuck’s eyes are searching, and Raleigh wishes he had the answers. He tugs Chuck down gently, tucking him against his chest before pulling the covers over them.

"I'll keep you safe, even if it kills me," he says, voice firm. It's not bravado or a threat. It's a promise, held close to his heart.

Chuck's quiet, drawing patterns on Raleigh's chest with his fingertips. "I'm scared it might," he says softly.

Raleigh closes his eyes and doesn’t respond.


End file.
